Finally Perfect
by livewiresandwildfires
Summary: There was no real word for the kind of care and respect that he and his makeshift family had for each other. Or maybe that was the word. Family. / Fourth and final installment of my Perfect series. In which everything falls into place. / Rated T for strong language. Read Perfectly Normal, Normally Perfect and Perfectly Fine first.
1. Empty Coffins

**This will be the last installment of my** _ **Perfect**_ **series. It will be a series of connected one shots following Alex and K unit's lives.**

 **I'll write and add more to this sporadically, just as I get inspired. If you have any suggestions or anything you want to see, let me know! You might want to follow this story so you know when I update it, I probably wont update as often as my other stories.**

 **A quick visit with an old friend…**

* * *

"I'm not really sure what to call it…" Alex hesitated, thinking over the last year of his life. Alex wasn't quite sure what it was. Love? Friendship? There was no real word for the kind of care and respect that he and his makeshift family had for each other.

Or maybe that was the word. Family.

Alex smiled, "yeah, family. I've got a family now, been awhile since I've had one of those, huh Jack?" Alex tugged at the grass in front of the gravestone. He was sitting directly in front of the inscribed rock, not having to worry about standing over a body.

"But don't worry, Jack. You're still my family too, always will be. I'll never forget what you've done for me. I love you Jack-" Alex choked slightly, holding back tears, "I miss you, I always miss you. I miss you every second. Even when I think I'm fine, I'm still missing you."

Alex paused, a part of him recognized that the sun was setting, but he still had so much to say. "I've got a psychiatrist now, I know you were always asking me to get one. I told him about you a few months back. I said, 'missing you is like breathing, involuntary and constant'" Alex huffed with laughter, "sappy stuff huh? But it's true. My default mode is missing you. The Doc says that it'll go away, over time. That I just have to keep living and keep breathing and one day, you won't be the foremost thing in my mind. I'm not sure I want that, though," Alex admitted, "I don't want to feel like I'm forgetting you, I want you to be apart of my life everyday… maybe that's not particularly healthy, maybe that's just the survivors guilt talking… I don't know."

Alex reached out, running his hand over the grave markers inscription. He traced the name Jack, he never did find out what that was short for.

"I know what you'd say, 'listen to the shrink, Alex, he knows his business! You can't save the world _and_ yourself _all the time_ , right Alex?'. I guess I can do that. I can try at least."

Alex fell silent, he took his hands off the cool granite. He wondered if, a continent away, someone else was doing the same.

After Jack's death, Alex was the person that her Will was given to. It had stated clearly that she wished to be buried in London, ' _I didn't come here thinking I would love it as much as I do, or that I would get the family I now have. To my parents and family back in America, I hope you understand. There's a boy here, and he's my family too. More importantly, I'm the only family he has left. I told Alex I'd always be here for him, that I'd always be waiting when he came home, I intend to keep that promise. So, dear family, if you're wondering why I don't want to be at home, wonder no more. Of course I want to be home, I am home._ '

While there was no body to bury, Alex was still grateful. Her funeral and 'burial' ceremony had taken place here, and that felt important.

Jack's entire family had flown out here; MI6, at least, paid for the trip. Alex had been sure to have Jack's grave stone placed in his own family's plot. Just like Jack had said, she was family. Putting her to rest anywhere else wouldn't have sat right with Alex.

After the ceremony, Jack's family had gone home. They had erected their own headstone in memory of Jack. Alex sighed, realizing he was running out of time. Shadows were edging in around him. There was still a bucket of things he wanted to tell her, but only one thing seemed very important right now.

"I-," Alex started, "I'm happy now, Jack. It's been, I don't even know how long, since I've been happy. Maybe I haven't let myself be happy? I'm not sure, but all you ever wanted was for me to be happy and safe. I am, Jack. I'm happier and safer than I've been in years. I hope you are too, now you don't have to worry about me. I love you, and I know how much you loved me." Alex sensed a presence behind him, time to go then, "I'll see you on the other side, Jack. Save me a seat?"

Alex felt a strong hand on his shoulder and he turned to it. Wolf was crouched next to him, smiling sadly.

"Ready to go, kid?"

Alex glanced to his left, at the line of gravestones.

 _John Rider, Helen Rider, Ian Rider, Jack Starbright_ , and then the few empty plots to his right. Alex knew he'd end up in one of those one day, sooner rather than later most likely.

"Yeah, let's go."

Alex let Wolf manhandle him to his feet, accepting the arm Wolf tossed over his shoulders. Alex glanced back one last time at the graves.

Well, he amended, he might not end up in there, so to speak. Sometimes you didn't leave a body. No trace that you even existed but for the fleeting memories of the few who remain.

No body, because - Alex squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to remember - 40 kilograms of explosives incinerated any human being in the direct vicinity.

MI6 had to bury their fair share of empty coffins.


	2. Time For a Wedding

**The beginning to a happy ending.**

* * *

Alex pulled up the sleeve of his jacket, checking the time for the fifth time in the last half hour. He tugged his sleeve back down, readjusting his cuff links; little, decorative birds (eagles). All the grooms party had them.

"Okay, be brutally honest!" Eagles voice echoed out of the changing room.

"Aren't I always?" Alex called back. He turned to raise an eyebrow at Fox, who shrugged in reply.

A small gust of wind brushed past him as Eagle opened the door, "so?" he asked, nervously, "how do I look?"

Alex gave him a once over, walking around him with a critical eye, tongue peeking out in concentration. He stopped in front of Eagle, reaching up slightly to correct his bow tie.

Alex stepped back, examining him. Never before had Alex seen Eagle, or any member of K unit, in a suit. It was so in contrast with what Alex was accustom to that it almost hurt his eyes.

Eagle was sweating slightly, his nerves shot. Alex could tell Eagle was struggling to not drag his hands through his neatly styled hair.

"You, my friend, are drop dead gorgeous."

* * *

Wolf looked at Cub, silently seething. He couldn't remember ever seeing Cub in anything besides army greens and casual clothes, but somehow the kid managed to look comfortable in everything. Freaking spy's.

They were all dressed to the nines, suits and ties and the whole works. They had _tie clips_ for fucks sakes. But while the members of K unit were stifled and awkward, Cub looked like he was born in a suit. Completely and utterly at ease.

As Wolf watched, Cub absently straightened his tie and leaned casually over a table to speak with a waiter. Cub gestured vaguely, but the waiter seemed to understand. The man nodded and spun on his heal, quickly retreating.

Cub leaned back, then seemed to realize that he was being watched. He turned towards Wolf, hand twitching to where Wolf knew Cub was hiding his gun. When he caught Wolf's eye he relaxed, smiling brightly. Cub gave him a thumbs up, _ready to go_.

* * *

"You clean up pretty good, Cub."

Alex smiled, "as do you, sir."

The Sergeant put and arm on his shoulder, laughter in eyes that were usually full of steel. "No need to call me 'sir' today."

Alex nodded, ceding the point. "And maybe you'd consider calling me Alex?"

"Ha," Sergeant Sanders chuckled ironically. "Let's not get carried away now, Cub."

He hummed noncommittally, "thought so."

* * *

"I can not believe how many people here are bankers! It's crazy!" Natasha picked a chocolate covered strawberry from her plate, taking a careful bite before continuing, "I mean, it is an odd crowd isn't it?"

Alex turned away slightly, hiding a smirk, "odd how? I'd think bankers would be the farthest thing from odd."

"True true," the bridesmaid laughed nervously, "I guess it's just the mix. I mean, Landon and Sadie have _all_ these army friends, right? Then there's family, obviously. But where did all the bankers come from?"

"Huh, you're right. That is odd. Maybe they met at a convention or something?"

"I don't think I could see Landon _or_ Sadie going to a banking convention. They can barely do their own taxes."

"Fair enough. Where did you and Sadie meet, then?"

Natasha's eyes lit up as she recalled the beginning of her friendship with the bride-to-be. "We met in Uni. Royal Holloway University. We had the same psychology class. Although," she took another bite of strawberry, "I went into Social Work, not Army Psychology like Sadie."

"Social work, huh? You enjoy working with kids?"

"Love it! Oh, some of the stories you hear, those poor kids…" she sighed, "what about you? You in uni?"

Alex nodded vaguely, "yup. Loving every second of it."

"What are you thinking of going into?"

Alex smiled, catching Fox's eye over Natasha's shoulder, the spy jerked his head in a _let's go_ gesture. "Oh I dunno. I was thinking banking."

* * *

Alex stood next to Fox, sternly telling himself not to fidget. _Spy's don't fidget_ , he thought. With that in mind, Alex straightened, turning his attention to the man of the day. Eagle stood next to the altar, nerves fried, but looking ready to burst with happiness.

Alex smiled, after everything all of them had been through, he was glad they could still have _some_ nice things. A little blip of normality every once in awhile was a pleasant surprise.

Alex brought his hand up to his inside jacket pocket, securing his aviators next to his Glock. He caught Eagles eye and gave the groom an encouraging nod, just as the music started up.

Instead of the traditional chorus of ' _here comes the bride_ ' by Wagner Lohengrin, Sadie had chosen her favourite Ed Sheeran song. As the first chords rang out, Alex turned his head to the entrance of the aisle.

He craned his neck along with everyone else, excited to see the beautiful bride. The bridesmaids led the way; Alex nodded at Natasha as she looked at him, leading the flower girl down the aisle.

The bridesmaids, flower and ring bearers waltzed down the aisle in a sea of sunset purple. Looking past them, Alex caught a glimpse of white. He leaned back as he caught sight of Sadie, her smile lighting up the whole room.

Time for a wedding.


	3. Twas a Rough Night Indeed

**K unit get a night off, and Alex scrambles in his toughest mission yet. Who said life was fair?**

* * *

"Time check?" Wolf called nervously.

"6:00, do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know," Wolf replied honestly, "this has got to be his hardest mission yet."

"He hasn't checked in in a while, didn't we tell him to check in every hour? What if something's gone wrong?"

"He's a MI6 spy, a veteran and an agent. He can handle this," Fox said reassuringly.

"But this isn't like his normal missions!" Eagle argued, "he could be dead in a ditch for all we know!"

"Wouldn't be surprised," Wolf muttered darkly.

"Maybe," Eagle chimed in shakily, "maybe we should just go home?"

"And what'll Cub say to that?" Fox asked, "we've hardly been gone two hours."

"Well," Snake began, rubbing his chin, "I reckon he'll say something like 'thanks for saving me, guys. Dinner's on me.'"

"Oh you boys are so melodramatic!" Wolf's mother, Elena, leaned forward from her place in the back seat, "he's only babysitting!"

* * *

"Oh yes, Tess. I see. You're right, that is a puppy. How could it be anything else?" Alex turned his arm left and right, trying desperately to find the angle in which the haphazard scribbles represented a puppy.

Eighteen month old Tess clapped her chubby hands, sending her Crayola marker flying across the room. She encircled Alex's wrist with her fat baby fingers and pointed to the scribbled mess there.

"Puppy dog!" She exclaimed with even more enthusiasm than the first time.

She then looked around, confusion written on her tiny face.

"Where go?" She asked, heartbreak apparent in her voice as she pointed at Alex's forearm. Alex smirked and scooped the child up, rising to his feet and balancing Tess on his hip. He walked a pace to where the marker had rolled to a stop and handed it to Tess. She immediately used it as an offensive weapon against Alex's face, leaving a blue smear on his cheek.

Tess giggled uncontrollably.

"Again!" She reached up to brutally mare Alex's face again. _This child is ruthless_ , Alex thought.

He brought up a hand, blocking the incoming drawing implement.

"Why don't we get you some paper, yeah?"

"No tank you, Awex."

* * *

"I'm hungry, Alex," Zia glared up at him with all the indignant fury of a scorned six year old.

"What do you want to eat?" Alex asked patiently.

"Mac and Cheese!" The child shouted. Her cry for sustenance was echoed by Wren and Griffin, who were standing on either side of her like bodyguards.

"Alright," Alex agreed, "go wash up, and I'll make you dinner."

A collective cheer came from the young mob and they charged off towards the bathroom in triumph.

Alex sighed and looked at the baby in his arms. Tess had stopped attacking him with pens, and was instead calmly twisting his hair.

He plopped Tess into her chair, giving her the plate of cooked carrots that he'd been feeding her. He picked Klaus off the tiled floor and put him next to Tess.

Tess, the more authoritative of the two, immediately asserted her dominance by pushing all of Klaus's carrots to the floor. Alex and Klaus pulled identical looks of despair, watching the chopped carrots clatter on the kitchen tile.

"Uh oh." Klaus said calmly.

"Uh oh indeed, my small articulate friend," Alex replied.

Tess grinned wildly, _what a little menace_.

* * *

"We should go, right?" Wolf asked, "Cub is our friend and we should save him?"

"It's only 6:30," Fox replied dryly.

"Aaron, dearest, you are being simply ridiculous. Alex can handle a few kids" Elena dismissed Wolf's worries.

"Yes Madre, but-"

"No buts!" She exclaimed, "the only _butts_ I want to see are yours in those chairs, eating your dinner!"

Wolf opened his mouth to argue, but a stern glare had him back peddling. Wolf was a soldier, he knew which battles to fight, and which to surrender.

"Really, Aaron. Our kids aren't _that_ bad," Wolf's sister Carmen chimed in, finding her place at the table. "Thank you, dear," she said offhandedly to her spouse as he pushed in the chair for her.

"Your children are the embodiment of pure, unrefined evil," Eagle stated plainly, Sadie covered her mouth as she snorted in a very unladylike manner.

" _Landon Francis Taylor_!" Elena gasped, "that must be my poor hearing at work, because I'm sure you would never say that about your god-nieces!"

"God nieces aren't a thing," Eagle said confusedly.

In the chair next to him, Fox could be seen figuratively blowing his brains out with a finger gun.

"Landon Francis Taylor, I am extremely old and your sass does not help my blood pressure."

Eagle opened his mouth, probably to dig himself a deeper hole. Luckily, Snake is always willing to lend a hand to a teammate in need.

"Oh look, the appetizers!" Snake pointed dramatically across the restaurant at the approaching waiter in way of a distraction. He simultaneously kicked Eagle under the table.

"But- bloody ouch Snake," Eagle rubbed his shin.

"Language, young man! This is a dinner table, not a horses stable!"

" _My middle name isn't even Francis_!"

* * *

"It's not even your birthday," Alex said reasonably.

Six year olds, however, don't much care for logic and reason.

Zia continued to belt out Happy Birthday, stabbing her macaroni in time with the beat. Her two little minions, five year old Wren and four year old Griffin, sang back up.

"Really though, your birthday isn't for another two months," Alex continued, "your singing is premature and unnecessary."

" _HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MEEEE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME_!"

* * *

Wolf stepped carefully, eyes skimming for movement. Hesitantly, he crossed the threshold of the Cane family household. His unit followed him in, everyone on their toes. They crept through the dark, every step filled with fear.

"Oh dios mio, idiotas." Elena flicked on the living room lights, sending the unit of soldiers diving for cover.

Eagle tumbled over the couch with a manly yelp. Fox dove headfirst into the most conveniently placed wall. Snake simply melted into the ground like the Wicked Witch post-shower. And Wolf stumbled around the room, clutching his face and wailing 'my eyes! It burns!' dramatically.

Elena snorted at their dramatics, heading back to the car to fetch the family.

"Cute," a voice said humorlessly. "You came _back_ for me."

Once K unit recovered from their flailing, they looked up to see Cub. He was standing, arms crossed, in the archway to upstairs. His glare could cut diamonds.

"Oh, hey Cubby," Eagle gave a small laugh, "how are you?"

Wolf glared at Eagle. The question, while outwardly innocent, would not win them any points with Cub. It was very obvious how Cub was doing.

Every inch of uncovered skin was covered in blue ink. His hair had macaroni and carrots stuck in it -an unusual combination. On the topic of Cub's hair, it seemed like someone had been in the process of spinning the golden locks into a series of small braids. Five or six untied braids stuck out around Cub's crown.

"Oh dear…" a small voice exclaimed from behind K unit.

Carmen, Mari, Lincoln and Ashton stood in the doorway. Mari, Wolf's sister in law, was looking at Cub in horror.

Elena came up from the driveway, confused by the commotion. When she later eyes on Cub, her eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Oh _mi pobre nieto_! Tu hermoso rostro!" Elena shoved bodily past her children, her children in law and her adoptive children of K unit. She bounced up to Cub's side, capturing the boy's face in her surprisingly strong grip. She twisted his face left then right, examining the marker damage from every angle.

"I'm fine, it's okay. Abuela, please. Estoy bien, prometo," Alex replied in flawless Spanish, accented and everything.

* * *

Alex sat on the couch. The cushions were just too soft to be comfortable, and there was an interesting stain near his leg that Alex was studiously avoiding touching. Fox came out of the kitchen, a tray of night-time tea balanced on one hand.

He set the tray down on the coffee table and handed Alex a cup and saucer. After the night he had, a cup of tea was more than welcome.

"So I'm guessing it didn't go well?" Ashton asked, he looked unsure of whether he should laugh or cry.

"To quote Shakespeare; Macbeth, Act II, scene iii, line thirty six, '' _twas a rough night_ '" Alex replied dryly.

'Twas a rough night indeed.


	4. Brilliant Man, That Dr Lance

**Time for Alex's annual check up!**

* * *

The phone went off down the hall, Fox looked up from his book and spared a glance at Cub and Eagle. They were in a heated argument and didn't acknowledge the phone at all.

"Oh no, don't worry. I'll get it." He sighed as both Cub and Eagle continued arguing without pause.

He pushed himself off the comfy armchair, going into the hall. After a quick glance at the caller ID, he picked up the phone.

"Hey Dr. Lance! How've you been?" Fox spoke into the receiver, leaning on the kitchen door frame.

" _Good. Quite busy, but after Alex I can handle anything_ " came the light reply.

"No kidding, huh?" Fox smirked, looking into the living room where Cub was teaching Eagle how to use the new blu ray player. It really wasn't going well.

" _I've booked some time off,_ " Lance continued, " _do you think Alex is up to a visit?_ "

Fox watched Cub toss a video box across the room, then proceeding in punching Eagle in the arm.

"Yeah, I think he could use a change of company."

* * *

Wolf watched nervously as Cub ran down the slippery tarmac. The kid was wearing a bright orange vest over his black army jacket, and was carrying a coned torch in each hand.

Cub stood in front of the oncoming plane, arms held in a 'T' position. Wolf bit his nails nervously as the plane touched down, rolling in Cub's direction.

Cub stepped back wards, swinging both torches. Starting with arms pointed forward, then bending the elbows and bringing the torches up to his shoulders.

Wolf never would have agreed to meet the plane if he knew _Cub_ would be the one landing it.

"Ready, Wolf?" Eagle was looking at him, gesturing at the door held open.

Wolf glanced out the airport window, seeing that Cub had managed to safely direct the plane and was now waving them down. He breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

"What's up Doc?"

"That never gets old, Al." Alex smiled at Dr. Lance cheekily.

"Too bad you do," Alex chuckled, "you're looking a little greyer than I remember."

"Yeah," Lance ran a hand through his hair, "actually buddy, those are all from you."

Alex looked mildly impressed, "mission accomplished then. Ahead of schedule too."

Lance snorted. The doctor then shifted his duffle bag in his hand and launched it at Alex. He caught it with a huff.

"Make yourself useful," Lance told him.

He shifted the bag onto his shoulder.

"Not a familiar concept for him," Wolf chipped in.

Alex decided it was time to defend himself, "I _did_ save the world you know. A few times, actually."

"Meh," Wolf made an unimpressed noise.

"Any international teenage superspy can stop a terrorist organization or two," Lance agreed.

Alex looked back and forth between his two verbal assailants.

"I _knew_ it was a bad idea to get the two of you together again."

"What can we say, we just get each other." Lance pushed him in the direction of the airport.

"We bonded over mutual suffering," Wolf gave him a pointed look. The fact that _he_ was the 'mutual suffering' went unsaid.

"Jeez, when can we expect the happy announcement?"

* * *

They made their way back home in Eagles van (well, Sadie's parents van). They chatted about trivial things; it was nice to catch up with Dr. Lance. Alex could confidently say that Lance was one of the few friends he really had anymore.

When they pulled up to the house, Alex froze.

"Someone's been here. Probably is still inside."

Wolf swung his head around, looking at the front door.

"How on earth can you tell?"

Alex gave his unit mate a look, nodding at the welcome mat. The corner of it had been flipped up in a way that could only be accomplished by the scuff of a person's foot.

Opening the van door, Alex slipped out and made his way to the house.

"Stay here, doctor," he heard Wolf say behind him.

"Haha yeah, like hell." Was Lance's answer.

Alex felt five presences approach behind him as he made it to the door. He unlocked it, not bothering to conceal his presence.

The door swung inwards. Alex grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the door, yanking a concealed shotgun from the handle.

"The fuck Cub…" he heard Snake's astonished whisper behind him. Had K unit really not found that yet? Soldiers these days…

"Agent Rider."

Alex pointed the barrel of the gun at Agent Braydonal. He broke into a fake grin.

"Toney Baloney! Good to see you again. Get the hell out of my house!" He spoke in a friendly voice.

Alex heard Lance mumble to Wolf, asking who the man was. Wolf answered with a whispered _MI6_.

"I've been told to bring you into the bank. Mrs. Jones said it was urgent."

Alex felt a flash of annoyance, "I'm off duty, Jones knows that."

"Which is why she didn't call you in," Alex looked at Lance questioningly. "He's lying." The doc said.

Alex turned back to Agent Anthony Braydonal. Looking closer, he saw the signs of a lying; eyes glued forward, trying to keep eye contact despite wanting to look away.

"Well then, who sent you?"

The agent sighed, "... Crowley."

"Well," Alex laughed, "Crowley can _go suck it._ You can tell him I said that. Now get out."

He stepped to the side of the hallway, swinging the shotgun from Braydonal to the floor and then around to point at the front door. Lance and his unit ducked out of the way as the barrel swung past them.

"I have my orders, Agent Rider."

Alex was thoroughly annoyed. He opened his mouth to snap back, but someone came to the rescue.

Surprisingly, it was Lance.

"Tony is it?" The agent winced. "Maybe not then. Anyway, you know that you look tired? Overworked huh? I get that, having to deal with people as difficult as Alex everyday-" Alex glared, "-isn't an easy gig. But no one appreciates it, am right? How long have you been with MI6? Too long to be running fools errands like this, I'll bet. But you don't complain, don't argue. You're a good worker. I bet you could get a job anywhere."

Alex was more than a little confused at this point. Was Lance… complementing the bastard?

"I hear MI5 is always on the lookout for new talent. Or even better, I know an Agent in the CIA who would love to snatch up any MI6 agent she could get her hands on. In fact," Lance pulled a card from his jacket pocket. It was marked _Tamara Knight, Centurion International Advertising, Administrative board._ "Give her a call, mate. She'll put everything together."

The agent looked just as stunned as Alex felt. So stunned, in fact, that the man didn't even put up a fight as Dr. Lance escorted him out the door.

"Have a nice day, Agent." Lance smiled and shut the door.

Alex stared at him in awe, "Have I ever told you that you're bloody brilliant?"

"Yes. But I'd love to hear it again."

* * *

They sat in the living room, chatting. K unit and Lance had mugs of late-night coffee. Alex, at Lance's request (demand), had a cup of decaffeinated tea.

Alex's phone went off, lighting up the sunset flooded room. He glanced at his phone.

 _Hope you don't mind, but I stole one of your agents. I'll make it up to you when you come to visit :P -Tamara_

Alex laughed, looking up at his friend seated across from him. James Lance waved his hands around as he told a story to his unit. He couldn't believe that in one inspirational speech, Lance had made one of the most stubborn MI6 agents he knew flounce off to America.

Brilliant man, that Dr. Lance.

* * *

 **Dr. Lance is from this story's prequel 'Perfectly Fine'**


	5. They Didn't Look Back

"You really think this is a good idea?" Eagle asked nervously, fiddling with his pen.

"Of course I do!" Sadie replied with confidence, "they're your _best friends_ , they need to be here!" Eagle's wife wrote _Wolf, Snake, Fox, Cub_ at the top of a lined piece of paper in neat cursive.

Eagle looked far from convinced. "Yeah but... I don't know, they aren't really the type of people for these kinds of things..."

"Neither are you." Sadie pointed out.

"Well dear, I'm kind of obligated in this case." He raised an eyebrow at Sadie. "I just think they might take it better if I told them in private..." he let the thought trail off as Sadie gave him a stern look.

"You are being utterly ridiculous. Your Unit will be nothing but supportive. They'll be _excited_."

Eagle sighed in defeat, "You're right, as always."

"And you'd better get used to it," she smirked in triumph, twisting the gold band on her fourth finger before brushing her hand over her belly.

* * *

Eagle squinted at the lined paper, what was once blank was now filled with black ink. "Okay, but do we really have to invite Aunt Mallorie?"

"Well, why wouldn't we? She's _your aunt_ , Landon." Sadie gave him an exasperated look.

"Well, yes," Eagle ceded, but, the thing is, Cub is convinced she's actually Italian Mafia."

Sadie adopted an incredulous look. She rolled her eyes. "You can't believe _everything_ Cub tells you. Just because he's the world's youngest and possibly most talented international spy, with ties to government agencies and criminal organizations all across the globe does _not_ make him a reliable source."

"Umm, Sweetie?" Eagle started gently, "it kind of does."

"Point taken. No Aunt Mallorie then."

* * *

Wolf raced down the stairs, drawing a hand down his shirt in an attempt to rid it of wrinkles. He looked around wildly for the keys, finding them - shockingly - on the key rack. "Cub! Hurry up! We're going to be late!"

"Calm down, Wolf." The kid's voice drifted down the stairs. "We won't be late."

Wolf glanced at his phone, checking the time and rereading Fox's text. "Everyone's already there! Eagles house is a thirty minute drive from here. We need to be there in fifteen."

Alex appeared on the staircase, leaning casually against the wall. He was dressed for a dinner with friends; the perfect mix of casual and formal. Dark, pristine condition jeans and a deep red dress shirt, unbuttoned slightly at the top to look a little more casual. He had a black tie hanging loosely around his neck and black not-quite dress shoes. His hair was messy as usual, but in a stylish 'I woke up looking this good' kind of way.

"Trust me Wolf, in my car, we'll make it in ten."

* * *

"Oh my God, Cub. What station are we on? Were you actually alive in the eighties, or do you just like to pretend?"

"Driver picks the music, mate. Deal with it or get the fuck out."

"And I respect that. Really, I do," Wolf responded, shouting over the noise, "but Bon Jovi? Really? You can do better than that, I'm sure."

"Those sound like fighting words to me, Wolf. Anyway, Bon Jovi rocks, on occasion. Could be worse. I've got Black Sabbath on CD and the other station is rocking REO. Would you rather listen to that?"

Wolf snapped his head around to stare out through the windshield.

"No. No I most certainly do not."

"Well, okay then."

Alex readjusted his rear-view mirror, "What do you think this whole thing is about then? Eagle isn't really the 'dinner party' kind of guy, you know?"

"Not a clue, mate. You don't think we've forgotten someone's birthday, do you?"

Alex looked at Wolf blankly, then felt a moment of worry. "Jeez I sure hope not. We don't have a gift."

"Could grab a bottle of wine on the way over?"

"Classy Wolf. Sadly,, we don't have time. Places to go, people to see."

Alex gunned the engine and took off down the road. They spun around the corner, leaving Chelsea behind them. They didn't look back.


	6. Lessons From Ian

**Not Eagles wedding yet, this shot continue's off the last one a bit.**

 **I'm feeling a little low on inspiration for these stories right now, so the next one might take a while. I did start writing a new story, so look out for that.**

 **Special thanks to Ava Simbelmyne and Youya for the awesome idea's!**

 **Shopping really isn't as simple as it seems.**

* * *

Alex has accomplished a lot in seventeen years. He had brought government and terrorists alike to their knees. He'd passed high school with honours, and was equally brilliant in university. He's far ahead in school, with just a year left to his four-year uni degree.

Yes, Alex was proud to say he'd packed a lot into his short seventeen years of life. He also was _not_ ashamed to say that despite all these things he'd done, he had never been to a baby shower.

Who had time for baby showers when the world needed saving? The world's youngest spy? I think not.

No, Alex wasn't ashamed or embarrassed at all. He was, however, in over his head.

* * *

He'd popped off the tube at Oxford Circus, intending to start shopping on the obvious streets. After twenty minutes of struggling through crowds of tourist and high-end locals on Oxford street, Alex decided to try a different approach.

He slipped out of the crowds down a side street. Berwick was slightly less cramped, but still a little much for the paranoid spy's tastes.

He was probably being stupid - and who could tail anyone in this crowd anyway? - but he was pretty sure he was being followed.

Without concrete evidence, though, Alex felt it was equally as likely that he was just being a little too jittery. Shaking off the feeling, he made his way down Berwick.

Impulsively, Alex walked into the first jewelry store he came across. He didn't think he would buy anything, it was all very expensive - not that money was an object. Really though, Alex just wasn't sure if jewelry was the sort of thing people gave at baby showers.

He supposed the gift should have something to do with the baby. Hence _baby_ shower.

Taking a last peak at some sparkling necklaces in a display case, Alex prepared to leave. A flash of colour in the corner of his vision made him hesitate.

Pretending to look at the prices on the necklaces, he shifted his gaze to one of the conveniently placed mirrors on the wall.

A man in a dark blue trench coat was admiring the watches; men's watches, which was odd because the watch on the man's own wrist was clearly new. Not overly suspicious, but enough to make Alex slip his phone from his pocket under the guise of checking a text.

He surreptitiously took a picture of the man's reflection, having to angle his phone at his mirror to catch the reflection of the mirror on the other side of the store which actually held the image of the man's face.

He quickly sent the picture off to Fox, not bothering to write any context. The ex-spy would get the gist of it, he was sure.

That done, he made his way to the exit, nodding at a stores clerk on his way out.

He was a few shops down from the jewelry store when the doors reopened. It seemed the man had decided not to buy anything either, he noted.

Alex slowed his pace slightly, pretending to window shop. He continued walking until he could keep an eye on his tail with the reflections of the shop windows. He let the man follow him down half a block, trying to think of a way to lose him.

Running was a no go - the man probably wouldn't chase home with such a large crowd, but Alex didn't want the man disappearing either.

Going into a store might work, if he could stall the man long enough for Fox to show… then again, the man might not follow him _into_ a store again. There was no guarantee that the man would \n't wait for him outside - Alex wanted to keep eyes on him.

As he walked down the street along a series of storefronts, he saw just what he needed. He angled himself towards the door of a cute little accessories shop, dozens of hats lining the window display. He was pretty sure that he heard some footsteps quicken behind him.

Ian had once pointed out that entrance doors were very useful. For one, many were reflective - you could control their position, so you could use them to see behind you. Another thing, they were also a natural place to change your pace. You could dart forward to catch a closing door, or you could stop to let someone else enter before you.

How Ian was able to communicate this information to Alex without making it blindingly obvious that he was a spy, Alex hadn't a clue.

Giving as little warning as possible, he darted towards the door. He heard the slam of footsteps behind him as his fingers closed around the handle.

He stopped just as suddenly as he'd started, holding the door wide and stepping to the side. A young mother gave him a grateful look as she pushed her stroller into the store.

Smiling, Alex made to step back. When he turned, he made eye contact with his tail, who was standing directly behind him.

"Oh, sorry sir!" Alex blushed suitably, "after you, please." He gestured into the store, and what could the man do but go in?

He let the door swing shut behind the man, stepping to the large store front display. He made like he was examining a particularly dramatic hat (feathers, flowers, ribbons, the whole works) and pulled out his phone.

He'd received a message from Fox; _stay put. Will see you soon :P_

Alex laughed, looking back at the display and making sure to stay in view of the man inside.

He sighed, resigning himself to stare at this beautiful (truly atrocious) hat until Fox showed up. Sometimes he bloody _hated_ being a spy. His life with MI6 screwed up even the simplest things in life; he couldn't buy a _baby shower gift_ without getting stalked.

Blasted MI6. Oh, there was a special place in hell for them. Hopefully not the same one he'd end up in.

"Al! What's up?" Fox came jogging up to him, hair damp like he'd just got out of the shower.

"Not much, just your average day shopping as a teenage spy." He nodded to the store.

Fox peeked in, taking note of the man in the trench coat.

"What do you think of that one?" Fox pointed to a truly lovely little number - a wide brimmed, bright orange hat with what looked like fake stuffed birds glued to it.

"Just your style, I'd say. Let's go try it on, shall we?"

* * *

"Teenage spy extraordinaire goes shopping, you'll never guess what he found in the old lady hat shop! - there's one for the headlines."

Alex twisted around at the sound of Eagle's voice. "Bit wordy for a clickbait, wouldn't you say?"

"Eh," the casually dressed soldier shrugged, "it's a work in progress."

"Bit like you then." Alex replied. Eagle punched him in the arm.

Alex laughed, returning his eyes to where Fox stood, pushing his follower into a police car. _Not bad for a day's work_.

"Jeez Cub. You can't even go shopping without causing a national incident, huh?"

"Another one of you." He shook his head at Wolf as the soldier approached from seemingly nowhere. "One day, if I'm lucky, maybe I'll collect 'em all."

"Well today's your lucky day then, Snakes just paying the cab."

"Well whoop-tee-fucking-doo."

" _Language_ young man," Snake said, coming up by his side.

Alex threw his hands up in exasperation, "I just needed to buy a bloody rattle or something! Is that too much to ask?"

"Awe," Wolf jeered, "maybe baby should buy a soother instead?"

"You can take your bloody soother and shove it right up-" his sentence ended in a jumble of incoherent sounds as Snake smacked a hand over his mouth.

"Oh my, _ew Cub_." Snake snatched his hand away, giving him an affronted look, "did you just _lick_ me?"

* * *

"Hey kid!"

Alex glanced up from his novel (textbook, actually. University is a bitch).

"What's up?"

Wolf waved him over to where the unit was converged around a laptop.

"Just going over surveillance from yesterday - neat trick with the door and the stroller, where did you learn that?"

Alex glanced over his unit mates shoulder, watching a street cam image of him in front of the hat store.

"Just something I picked up, I guess."

Watching the exchange between him and Trench Coat suddenly gave him a warm feeling. Usually, the thought of his uncle training him up to be a spy made him feel bitter and resentful. Right now though, well, Alex was glad to have gotten a few lessons from Ian.

* * *

 **Aight so like I said, next one might take a while. I'm planning on writing Eagle's wedding next.**

 **Also just a reminder that the prequels to this story have been edited and put back up. They might be due for another revamp, but I'm totally drained for now. I just wanted to have _something_ up. If you happen to read them, shoot me a review. I'll consider them all on my next editing montage.**


	7. Maybe He Could Do This

**Just in case anyone wondered what happened to those kids from the compound in Morocco.**

* * *

"Cub! Where do you think you're going?" Wolf wobbled into the living room, three kids dangling off his arms and one wrapped around his leg.

"Bank called," Alex replied, smiling at Tess as she bit Wolf's hand. "I've got to go in."

Wolf's eyes widened, "You're going to leave me here? Alone?" Wolf wiggles his leg,prompting Griffin to attempted to pull the soldiers pants down in protest.

"You aren't alone, you've got the kids! Have fun!"

Alex slipped out, hearing a muffled curse as he closed the door.

"Watch your mouth!" He shouted back at the house. "There are _children_ present."

* * *

Alex hopped off the tube, making his way to the Royal and General Bank. He hadn't been back to the bank since just after coming back from America - he was on leave. Technically, he still was on leave, but something came up (what else is new?) so he got called in.

Mrs. Jones had been the epitome of vague on the phone, just saying it had to do with his last mission. The Toy Soldier operation that had triggered so many bad memories for him.

Getting waved easily through the lobby, the elevator took him up to the director's office. Not bothering to knock, Alex let himself in.

"Hey hey, Mrs. J. What's the world catastrophe this time?"

Mrs. Jones gave a rare smile. "Oh nothing like that, Alex. It's more along the lines of… clean up, I suppose."

"Bit below my pay grade, don't you think?" He said with an eyebrow raised.

"On the contrary, I think you may be the only person able to do this. Sit." She gestured to the arm chair in front of her desk. He sank down into the leather seat.

"Firstly, why don't you tell me what you know about the kids from the operation in Morocco."

Oh dear… this wouldn't end well. "In the debrief, it said that they would be rehabilitated in a school on an army base in the states. Santa Katryna island. A secure place from which they can slowly be reintegrated into society. After they're deemed to not be a threat, they're familial status and nationality will determine where they go from there. To an orphanage or a halfway house, back to Africa under government protection, and so on."

"Correct. For the last few months, the Americans have been helping these kids find their footing. Some have already been sent out, adopted or fostered. But the Americans have come to the end of their rope, so to speak."

Jones paused, as if to give him the chance to ask questions. He decided it would be best to get the whole story first and stayed silent.

She continued, "What seems to have happened is, most of the younger kids - thirteen, fourteen, fifteen - healed fast. They were quickly rehabilitated and, being as bright as most of them are, have a good grasp on the curriculum, a couple years or a bit below their grade level. You know how easily kids can adapt." Did he ever… "The older kids, however… most of them were in the compound much longer. Those that were there three years or more, they are having an especially difficult time recovering." Alex thought he knew where this was going. "We want you to go visit them. You stayed there, in their age group, for a while. Some of them probably remember you as a friend. And you have first hand experience, recovering from a corrupt government-" did she mean the government in Morocco? Or was she talking about Blunt now… "- you could really help them."

Alex nodded, already sold on the idea. He had had friends there, he wanted to help. What happened to them was awful, and if he could help make it better… well, it felt like his duty.

"When do I leave?"

* * *

Alex wasn't sure what he expected when he landed in the small island of Santa Katryna. He suspected he would be treated as an outsider; someone not to be trusted. Mrs. Jones thought that the kids here would want to listen to him, because they knew him. Alex didn't think he'd be half as welcome as MI6 assumed.

Turns out, Mrs. Jones was right. _I guess she does make a business from it._

The second Alex's feet hit the ground, he was mobbed by a group of people - smiling people. Ages ranged from fifteen to eighteen, and Alex recognized most of them.

Private Damya, the eighteen year old girl that went to Rabat with his convoy. Private Kella, Private Tayri and Private Winitran - the two girls and other boy that Alex had shared a room with. Private Yufitran and Private Usem were some of the other boy's in his barrack. Private Ultasile and and Private Tala were a couple of the girls in the barrack.

All of them were a little beat up, tired looking and a bit worse for wear. They looked uncomfortable in their civilian clothing and a couple of them had twitchy fingers, a habitual act that mimicked shooting a gun.

And they were all smiling. Wow.

"Amnay! We were wondering about you. Thought you'd died when you never showed up here. Then we hear you were a spy? You always were impressive, but that's next level." Damya spoke in a rush, mixing Berberian, sloppy English and off Spanish.

The taller girl stepped up to him, giving him a rough hug. "Personally, I thought that Private Basil had gotten you," Damya whispered him his ear, stepping back with a smile.

"Nearly."

"Well, come on then. Mum wants us to give you the grand tour." Usem grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the beach. The group went up a hill towards a low building. They chatted aimlessly, but Alex noticed that the teens seemed to try a little too hard to act normal…

* * *

Alex got the full tour of the compound. It was a weird mix of a secure facility and a place trying hard to be 'relatable' to the kids.

Kella, Tayri and Winitran dropped him off at his room. Kella gave him a kiss on the cheek and Tayri shook his hand gruffly, both girls walked briskly off down the hall.

Alex tossed his small bag onto the bed.

"You know why you're really here, don't you?"

He looked back, tilting his head at Winitran. "The agencies thought you would benefit from a friendly face."

The seventeen year old smirked at him. "Right, a friendly face. Why wouldn't they have sent you ages ago, then?"

Alex frowned, "I was a little… preoccupied for a while."

Winitran hummed noncommittally. "We - everyone that's still here - we're the problem kids. We aren't adjusting the way the other kids did. And the people here… they don't think we will."

"Where do I come into that?" Alex crossed his arms. Mrs. Jones had given him the impression that he was just supposed to be helping these kids along.

"You're a spy right? Have been for a while?" Alex nodded in confirmation. "Well, you're our last hope. They think that if anyone can help us adjust, it's you. And if you can't… then we're all going to be in the same boat."

Winitran seemed to include Alex in 'all going to be in the same boat'. "They want to make spy's out of you."

"They'll probably succeed, too."

* * *

"You want to turn these kids into spy's? After everything they've been through? What the fuck?" Alex spoke harshly into his cellphone.

 _"Agent Rider,"_ Mrs. Jones was pissed, she didn't call him 'Agent Rider' she called him Alex. Always. _"We do not want to turn these kids into anything. Look at them, we don't have to. They're already halfway there."_

"You promised, Mrs. Jones. I believed you. I'm supposed to be the last, that's what you said."

 _"I said that MI6 wouldn't be looking for anyone like you, Alex. And we haven't. But this isn't just us, the CIA is involved as well. We convinced them not to repeat what we did with you, and so far they haven't. But they made no promises, Alex."_

"So that's it? These kids will become ammo for the countries that supposedly saved them?"

" _Alexander. Tell me this, if they cannot be rehabilitated, what should be done with them?"_

"I don't know. But they shouldn't become _weapons_."

 _"We can't keep them on Santa Katryna forever. We need a place for them. Somewhere like Brecon Beacons or another training facility. They can be protected and their - unique - skills can be nurtured. They wouldn't go on missions, Alex. I can promise you that."_

"They wouldn't go on missions _yet,_ you mean. Eventually, that's exactly what they'll be doing. And they won't have a choice, because they won't know any different."

 _"Then show them something different. Save them, Alex. It's your job now - no one else can. You're the last chance they have."_

* * *

Alex leaned up against the stone parapet with a sigh. How on earth was he supposed to help these kids?

He looked down at the surrounding waves, watching them crash gently against the high stone walls. Some movement caught Alex's eyes, he looked farther down the wall towards the side. A figure was moving against the wall.

Alex felt a flash of déjà vu as he recognized the silhouette. He'd recognized it in Morocco, too. When she had been up on a roof, looking for him through the scope of a gun.

Private Basil. The fifteen year old that had tried to kill him.

Alex watched the girl scale the wall, he moved a couple of steps down towards her.

* * *

/Basil POV/

Cool rock scraped over the palms of her hands. She reached up blindly, the moon above made it difficult to see more than an arm's length above and her wet clothes weighed her down.

She felt around, finding herself at the top of the wall. She pulled upwards - and almost ran face first into an open hand.

Looking up in confusion, she tried to make out the figure above her. She had had lots of practice identifying blurry figures through the scope of a sniper gun. This time, the light was too much against her.

She grabbed the hand anyway, letting herself be pulled swiftly over the wall.

She landed on the other side, bracing herself on the wall. Looking up, she rubbed her eyes to dash away the moonlight.

"Out for a late night swim?"

Wait… Basil recognized that voice. And when her vision cleared, she was sure. Private Amnay… shit.

* * *

/Alex/

He helped Basil over the wall, watching her rub her eyes as water slowly pooled off of her.

"Amnay?" She sounded shocked to see him.

"What, you weren't expecting me? Everyone else was."

The girl sighed, tucking a stray strand of wet hair back from her face. Her short black hair was in a French braid, the end of it barely touching the nape of her neck.

"Yeah well, everyone else actually goes to those morning meetings. I prefer to sleep in." She spoke stubbornly in Berber, despite the fact that Alex knew the teachers in the compound had been drilling English into them. Alex took the courtesy to switch as well.

"I don't remember you ever sleeping in." Alex recalled passing the girl every morning in the halls, sometimes hours before they ever had to be awake.

"I never got the option." Basil crossed her arms, maybe trying to look tough, maybe trying to stave off the cold. She was soaking wet, after all.

"Fair." He pulled his jacket off, holding it out to her. Basil just glared, narrowing her hazel/green eyes. Alex huffed and stepped forward, tossing the jacket around her shoulders. She didn't protest, but she didn't look happy either.

"Well," Alex continued, "if you'd like, I can give you the rundown."

Basil shook her head sharply, tugging the jacket tighter. "I think I can guess. CIA thinks we're lost causes already?"

Alex shrugged, no arguing with that. "I don't think you're a lost cause." Not totally, at least. He didn't know if he could save them, but he truly hoped he could.

Basil clenched her teeth. "Really? After everything? How can you even stand there and say that you believe in us - in me?"

She was getting angry, Alex could guess at the reason why. He doubted she had had a lot of faith put in her - especially not by someone she had tried to shoot.

"Because I don't think you're a bad person, Basil. I've met a lot of bad people, and you aren't one of them. Everything is going to be alright."

"How can you say that?!" Basil screeched, lunging into full blown anger, "how can anything be alright? I shot at you. I tried to kill you!" Her voice cracked and dissolved into angry sobs.

Alex stepped forward, not bothering to hesitate. Despite Basil's anger, she obviously needed someone, anyone, right now. Alex would have to do.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and letting the slightly smaller girl cry on his shoulder. He rubbed her arms through the dark jacket sleeves.

"I know things are going to be okay because I've been where you are. Hurt and abused by a government you trusted to protect you. But this? What the CIA are doing for you? They're finding you a family. For me, my family fixed everything. And they didn't have to be normal or stable or a good influence; in fact, most of the time they're a shitstorm. But they're family, and they care and they help and I've healed a lot. So will you."

"They can't find us a family. The CIA going to do the same thing to us as they did. The same thing that MI6 did to you."

Alex nodded, no denying that. "If you don't settle, if you don't try, then they don't feel they have another choice. But I can help you."

"You can help me? How can you even forgive me? Let alone help."

Alex pulled her closer. "It's not my forgiveness you need to worry about, you need to forgive yourself."

By now, Alex's shirt was soaked - either with ocean water from Basil's clothes, or tears from Basil's eyes.

"I can forgive you, I have. I've done worse than you for less."

"And did you forgive yourself?"

"I did, eventually. I needed the help of a few friends, but I managed it."

Basil scoffed, "Well, I don't exactly have a friend to help me out."

It was Alex's turn to scoff. "Sure you do. You've got me."

Basil leaned back, Alex let her. She wiped a hand across her face, dashing away tears.

"And we're friends now?"

"Can be."

"Okay." Basil glared at him despite the confirmation. Alex just smiled.

* * *

Alex walked Basil back to her room. She glared at him the whole way. She tossed her room door open and spun around to glare at Alex one last time.

"Well, this is my room. Unless you want to follow me in, I suggest you leave now."

Alex smirked, "I was just aiming to get my jacket back, Basil. Don't be so jumpy."

Basil scowled, tearing the jacket off like it was on fire and tossing it at him - like she wanted to set him on fire.

"Alright there, get lost Amnay." Basil frowned at him. Alex knew exactly what she was doing. Hiding.

"If we're going to be friends now, you should probably know my real name is Alex. Alex Rider."

"Yeah, what is it you English say? Bully for you?"

"Close enough. Have a good night, Basil." He turned down the hallway.

From behind him, Basil called out in English, "Night, Rider." Alex smiled and kept walking. Maybe he could do this.

* * *

 **Not really sure where to go from here. I might continue this later, or just leave it. If you have any ideas let me know!**

 **Ava Simbelmyne suggested a shot with Alex getting a girlfriend and/or married. I love that idea! I wanted to know, who would you guys like to see as Alex's significant other?**

 **Some possibilities I thought of are...**

 **1.** **Basil**

 **2\. Someone from Alex's university**

 **3\. Other (please suggest in reviews)**

 **Also! Eagle's kid, should it be a boy or girl? Name? Godparents? I already have a bit of an idea that I've started writing, but I'm stuck and might scrap it. Give me your thoughts!**


	8. I've Missed You

**This chapter: at least Alex can say that his family** _ **is**_ **as crazy as him. And not all the insanity can be blamed on MI6...**

* * *

Alex stepped out of the bank, thoroughly exhausted. As was customary, he took a good look around; scanning the skyline and the other people on the street. Alex logiced that it wasn't paranoia if he _had_ been shot. It was a smart precaution.

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary (a woman toting a small child, a man across the road with a corgi on a leash, a newspaper vender helping a customer), Alex hailed a nearby cab. The taxi car was drifting slowly past the bank, and pulled up quickly.

Alex jumped in the back seat - after a discreet check of the vehicle - and gave the cabbie his address in Chelsea.

As they drove off, Alex rested his head against the back window. The assignment, while short, had taken a lot out of him. He was looking forward to a nice long sleep in his own bed.

Even better would be a home cooked meal… with that thought, Alex texted Snake.

 _On my way home. Hot meal would be nice (hint hint) - A_

His phone vibrated seconds later.

 _Whatever you say, ingrate. -S_

Alex snorted, knowing that one of K unit (probably Wolf) had taken Snakes phone. 'Ingrate' was a very Wolf word to use.

 _It's my house -A_

Minutes later the cab was saddling up to the side of the curb. Alex leaned over the front seat.

"How much, sir?" He asked the cabbie.

"Twenty nine pounds."

"Credit?" Alex handed his card to the cabbie. The man plugged in the amount to his machine, popped Alex's card in and handed it back over the seat. A quick passcode and Alex had paid (with a generous tip).

"Thanks sir." Alex slid out of the backseat, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Rider," the cabbie called through the open window. The yellow gypsy cab roared away down the street.

Alex was halfway up the path before he froze - looking back at where the cab had been parked.

" _Have a nice day, Mr. Rider."_

Alex had never told the cabbie his name. In fact… flipping his wallet open again, he grabbed the credit card that he'd used to pay; it was under the name Samuel Baker.

 _Shit._ He suddenly wished he hadn't tipped quite so much.

Alex ran up the path, hitting the doorbell quickly before opening the front door with his key. Snake stuck his head out of the kitchen.

"Oh good Cub, you're here. You can help with the-"

"No time, Snake." Alex cut in. He ran into the kitchen, turning off the stove where one pot of pasta and another of sauce were being heated. He turned back to a bemused Snake, "We have to go."

"Is that Cub I hear?" Alex jerked his head up, seeing Eagle wander into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're all here." Alex said, relieved.

Eagle gave him a puzzled look, "That sounded oddly sincere Cub. Are you okay?" He made like he wanted to check Alex's temperature, false concern dripping from the man's every pore.

Alex stepped back. "We're going to your house, all of us. Go pack up, you've got five minutes," Alex turned back to Snake, giving him a small shove when the medic stayed still. "Go!"

A bit of his panic must have registered because Snake and Eagle both ran upstairs. He heard a jumbled commotion as they ran into Wolf and Fox upstairs.

Four minutes later Alex had assembled all of K unit. They had basic backpacks with some clothes, a lot of their things had already made their way to Eagle's house on previous visits.

"What's going on, Cub?" Wolf demanded.

Alex shook his head, "Let's just go, okay?"

Now, K unit had gotten pretty good at interpreting his spy-moods; his flashes of paranoia. So Alex got them out and into the car with little complaint.

Eagle was driving, with Alex sitting shotgun and the rest in the backseat. Wolf and Fox bickered over space while Snake leaned up against the door in exasperation.

Alex made Eagle take several detours - feeling like the surplus of silver sedans and black Audi's where crowding them, following them. Eagle wasn't happy, but drove in ever-shrinking circles and down backstreets until Alex seemed it safe to make a beeline to the house.

When they finally made it into Eagle's house, Alex bypassed Sadie's hellos and did a thorough check of the house.

As Alex scoured the kitchen, he heard Sadie questioning Eagle, "What's going on?"

Eagle gave a mumbled reply that Alex didn't quite catch, but was probably along the lines of, 'I've got no fucking clue'.

Once Alex was satisfied that the house was secure, he flopped down on the family room couch.

"Cub? Care to explain now?"

Alex peaked over the top of the couch; K unit and Sadie stood by the door, arms crossed and looking to be at various levels of peeved.

He took a deep breath, "I'm pretty sure that I'm being followed," he stated.

K unit exchanged looks.

"Freaking spy's…"

* * *

It was close to midnight, according to Alex's watch. Really, it was more like one a.m.

Alex hadn't gotten a chance to change his watch back to London time after returning from his mission.

Alex was lying on the lumpy couch in the living room. It was creaky and uncomfortable - one of the few things Eagle had brought with him when moving in with Sadie - but the couch wasn't the reason that Alex was up at one in the freaking morning.

Ten minutes ago (nine minutes ago to be exact- eight minutes and fifty seven seconds ago to be even _more_ exact) Alex had heard the shutter of a camera.

Now, most people wouldn't be out during the wee hours to have a photo shoot. And as nice as Sadie and Eagles house was, Alex doubted that many people would be stopping to snap pictures.

He hadn't heard anything since, and had been waiting up for another sign that the house was being watched.

Three minutes later, Alex thought he heard the snap of a dry, brittle branch. Not the noise you get when something snaps off a tree, but the distinctly dead splintering of and old stick being trampled underfoot.

Seconds later, the neighbors dog (a yappy little chihuahua) let out a series of yips and high pitched squeals.

 _Bingo._

Trying to make it look like he was still asleep, he rolled over into his stomach. Tossing an arm up by his face, Alex used it to shield his eyes while he squinted out the living room window.

A distinctly male silhouette stood a few feet from the pavement, planted firmly in Eagles front yard. With the streetlight to the man's back, Alex could make out very few features.

As he watched the watcher, the man slowly backed away. Walking a few paces to where a black Audi was parked and sliding into the driver's seat. Alex could just make out the sound of the engine turning over before the car pulled out - headlights off.

* * *

It was two days in when Alex realized that someone was intercepting their post.

They had arrived on a Sunday - and as we all know, there is no post on Sunday's. But it was Tuesday night and _nothing_ had arrived.

Alex wouldn't be worried or even surprised if they had been at the house in Chelsea (where mail was sporadic at best), but Sadie was subscribed to _dozens_ of magazines and papers. She was adamant that her issue of National Geographic came _every_ Monday, without fail. Not to mention her Daily Mail and the purse she had ordered online with overnight shipping.

So Alex was worried.

He had no idea what some random person would want with Sadie's Prada, but he wouldn't stand for this invasion of privacy. A woman's Prada was _not_ something to be messed with.

What really worried him, though, was when the notes started appearing.

In place of the general mail, they started receiving typed up notes. Creepy things that reminded Alex of the American horror movies he'd occasional gone to see with Sabina.

 _Come out and play._

 _Come play with me?_

 _Come on out, Alex Rider._

 _We're waiting…_

Not fun things, though it hadn't progressed past notes.

"Maybe I should just go out? See if I can find this person."

"Or," Sadie leaned over the kitchen counter to look at him, "you could let me take this knife and jam it into your stomach a few times." She waved a steak knife around remorselessly.

"Okay, not the same thing," Alex pointed out, "but I see where you're coming from."

"You can't just skip off into the sunset in _hopes_ of finding this potential serial killer."

"So what should we do then?" Alex asked. They were running out of options. Short of calling MI6 (which Alex would not do, he could handle his own problems _thank you very much_ ) they could do little from inside the house.

"I don't know," Sadie brought the knife down hard on the cutting board, "you're the spy."

* * *

"Okay, seriously Cub. We haven't left the house in five days, we're running out of food!" Wolf grumbled from the bottom of the stairs.

Alex snorted and reclined back on the sofa. "Well, maybe if you lot cut down a bit-"

"Cub!"

"Fine, okay. I'll go get groceries. Don't get your knickers in a knot." Alex kicked off the couch with a groan. He crossed to front door and grabbed his wallet off the side table. Pocketing it, Alex then proceeded to shove his shoes on.

"Is that a good idea, Cub?" Wolf sounded concerned. _How cute._ "I mean, _you're_ the one being stalked, after all."

Alex nodded, "True. But then they - whoever they are - will know about you. And I don't trust any of your abilities to know if you're being followed."

A pause from Wolf, and then, "Fair. But Sadie said-"

"I don't care," Alex glared at Wolf. "I'm sick of waiting around. They knows where I am, They know how to find me. So let them come."

Flinging the door open, Alex called over his shoulder. "If you don't hear from me in an hour-"

"We'll assume you're dead. Have fun!"

* * *

Looking over his shoulder for perhaps the hundredth time since entering the store, Alex discovered - surprisingly - nothing out of the ordinary. Again.

Sighing at his overt paranoia - _not paranoia, it's reasonable caution_ \- Alex went back to the task at hand: picking out the bread. Eagle would straight up murder him if he brought home whole grain loaves… but Sadie would equally kill him if he indulged K unit's unhealthy habits and got white bread. So the question was, who scared him more? K unit or Sadie?

Alex carefully slipped a bag of whole grain bread into his basket. "Sorry guys," he mumbled to himself.

Standing in the checkout line, Alex resigned himself to a long wait. Three people ahead of him, a sweet, elderly lady was trying to find the correct coupons - of literally the few dozen in her booklets. Yay.

His eyes drifted over the other store patrons; the man in front of him looked equally bored (and somewhat peeved, but doing his best to hide it). The man directly behind the older lady, however, looked downright anxious; constantly and consistently glancing in the stores domed mirror.

Curiously, Alex looked in the mirror too. The security measure gave a good view of the whole store. From everyone in line, to the aisles, to the doors.

Nothing noteworthy was really happening, however. Alex turned his attention to the man, looking at his face with the advantage of the mirror.

Alex almost visibly balked.

He realized that he recognized the man. Light brown hair, hazel eyes that were slightly askew, a nose that had definitely been broken before - Alex had seen him outside the bank. Standing at the newspaper stand, getting help from the vendor.

Looking back, Alex realized that he had been initially suspicious of the man; he hadn't had a wallet to pay for the paper. No money in his hands, no outline of a wallet in his jean pockets, and it had been warm, so no jacket to speak of.

Alex had dismissed it, assuming that the man had already paid. But then why would the vendor still be helping him?

The man in the mirror realized that Alex recognized him, almost the same second that it happened.

Abandoning his basket on the floor of the baby aisle, Alex slipped past an expecting mother and out the store door. The bell chimed overhead. Looking both ways before stepping off the sidewalk, Alex heard the bell chime again behind him. A clear and rattling _ding dong_ that signaled his pursuer.

He crossed quickly, looking for an escape. Ditching down the first alley he saw, Alex took every turn he came across. Still, the echo of following footsteps never let up.

Up ahead, Alex noted a dumpster; the lid was open, leaning against the wall behind it. Alex could just see over the top of it, where a small walkway sliced between two brick buildings.

Speeding up, Alex heard the footsteps match his pace. He continued to pick it up until he was almost running down the alley. He took a hard left, diving into the walkway. Once out of sight, Alex immediately spun on his heel.

He was just in time for the man to careen around the corner. Alex grabbed the man by the shoulders, shoving them backwards before slamming the man into the dumpster; the containers lid fell shut with the force, a reverberating bang filled the alleyway.

"Who the hell do you think you are, and who sent you?" Alex put on his best 'not pleased' voice.

"I can't tell you," the man replied, eyes shifting like he was looking for a way out.

Frowning, Alex used one arm to pin the man by the throat. The other patted the man down, looking for a wallet.

While his stalker hadn't had a wallet at the news cart, the man _had_ been ahead of him in line. He would have had to pay somehow.

Finding a wallet in the man's back pocket ( _no he did not enjoy patting people down - and he didn't want to talk about it_ ) he flipped it open. The man was still trying to remove Alex's arm from his neck, and was also eyeing Alex's hand nervously.

Flicking the wallet open, Alex found a crisp twenty pound note, a slightly more beat up tenner, a driving license and mastercard that both named him Scott McGyver and - most interestingly - a business card. The card proclaimed him: Scott P. McGyver. Private Investigator. Pinkerton Corporate Investigation Services.

"A P.I.?" Alex asked incredulously. He'd expected a lot of things (deranged stalker, terrorists, rival government agencies, old enemies) but what did a Private Eye want with him? Most businesses or governments that wanted to find them would have it handled by their own people. No one he could think of would hire outside help.

"Who sent you?" Alex asked, not really expecting an answer.

"I can't tell you." Go figures.

"How did you know how to find me?" Next logical question - who had sold him out?

"I got a picture, here-" the man shifted and Alex let him. He pulled out an old school photo - the one he'd gotten in America just before leaving. "I was told to order a cab for you and follow you home." Ah. The cab Alex had hailed in front of the Royal and General. It had been going awfully slow for a taxi during rush hour; not trying to pick up any of the many customers around. But it had sped right over to _him_.

"So what now? You've found me, what are you supposed to do?" Alex was done playing games.

The P.I. squirmed uncomfortably. Alex let him go, reasoning that he wasn't really a threat. "On the back of the card," Alex flipped the business card over. It read _Bloomsbury Coffee House, 6:30pm. You'll know me when you see me._

Either the handwriting was disguised, or Alex had never seen the messy scrawl before.

"You expect me to go meet someone without knowing a thing about them? Ever heard of stranger danger?"

"My client said that you'd want to meet them. And they said to say that 'stranger danger' has never held you back before."

"Fair enough."

* * *

"You aren't really going to go meet your stalker?"

Alex rolled his eyes, "I told you, they aren't _really_ a stalker. It was just a Private Eye."

"Oh yeah," Fox scrunched his nose at him, "that's so much better."

"Really, Alex," Sadie chimed in with her soft voice and kindness and psychological _reason_. Ugh. "You should be careful. There could be any number of reasons that someone would hire a Private Investigator to find you, and not all of them are harmless. Just don't walk into a situation you can't control."

"Please," Alex deadpanned, "when am I _not_ in control?"

* * *

The card was right when it said that 'he'd know them when he saw them'. The dark hair strung up in a ponytail and the piercing blue eyes were _strikingly_ Sabina. Alex recognized his surrogate sister in an instant.

With a triumphant smile on her face, Sabina waved him over.

"What the _shit_ , Sab," was his first reaction. He tried to calm down. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"Looking for you, duh." Alex blinked at her, stupefied. "Alright, fine. I met a boy, you know I volunteer at the orphanage in San Francisco?" Alex nodded. "Well, I met a little boy there, fresh from some government rehabilitation facility, that told stories about a British spy that tore apart an army base. Ziri was his name. I knew it was you, and I haven't _heard from you_ , so I decided to find you."

Private Ziri, one of the kids from Morocco. Alex had been decent friends with the boy, but he hadn't been on Santa Katryna island when he went. Already sent to be integrated into the world - apparently in San Francisco.

Alex remembered seeing the file. Ziri had had distant relatives that lived on America's Western seaboard. The child had probably been placed in an orphanage while they got into contact with his family.

"Okay, but the hell with the murder notes? Why not just send me something with your name on it?"

Sabina made a face that clearly called him an idiot. "Mostly I was just fucking with you," _Nice, Sab. Thanks_. "But first of all, if a letter showed up on your doorstep signed by me, would you even believe it? Would you not be a _little_ paranoid? Secondly, even if you believed it, would you even want to see me? You haven't contacted me since you left - what if you'd avoided me?"

Alex bit his tongue - point taken. "Then why didn't you just show up in my doorstep?"

"Because," Sabina said, "I didn't know if you lived there anymore. I went there, but it was occupied with four men. I didn't know what to think. So I hired the Private Eye to follow you home. He told me that you'd gone to the house in Chelsea, but when I got there it was vacant. So I had the P.I. track you down again."

When Alex had seen him outside the window.

"And why didn't you come see me _then_?" Alex was a _spy,_ and even he didn't understand all this cloak and dagger shit.

"Because I didn't know the other people in the house and I _didn't trust them_. I didn't want to go knocking on their door just to get shot in the face or something. So I decided to wait you out."

"And send me creepy _Annabell_ shit in the meantime?"

"You always liked a challenge." Sabina smirked at him, "I thought it would help draw you out."

"Almost did," Alex ceded. "If only Sadie wasn't so levelheaded."

Sab smiled, "You know, I think I like this Sadie chick."

"Speaking of, Sadie will be _pissed_ if you don't give her bag back."

Sabina rolled her eyes, "It's not a _bag_ , Alex. Its Prada." She brought a purse up from the seat next to her, plopping it on the table. It was unzipped, and Alex could see the week's worth of post piled into it.

"Was all that worth it?" Alex asked, thinking of the week they had both had.

Sabina rolled her eyes, reaching across the table to put both hands on his shoulders. "Obviously, you knucklehead. I've _missed you._ "

* * *

 **This is dedicated to Nightwing Batclan who suggested I write about a stalker (not quite what you suggested, but I hope you like it anyway. Might try something similar in the future).**

 **Also dedicated to a Guest that pointed out that I haven't written about Sabina or Tom.**

 **I'm still working on the extended version of Eagles wedding, but it might be a long time coming. I can't seem to get inspired!**


	9. Falling in Love

**(Just went back to edit some mistakes, please let me know if I missed anything)**

 **ALSO! I'm just about to post my first Alex Rider story with Yassen in it! So check that out if it interests you.**

 **This is quite a few years in the future; both Tom and Alex are out of University and working. They are both experts in their fields.**

 **This chapter: You would think Alex would learn not to shut people out...**

* * *

"Rider."

" _Hey you little shit. What's up? Just kidding, I don't care. Listen, I've met this girl and I think I'm going to propose and I'm pretty sure she'll say yes. If she does I'm going to need a best man and I know we haven't seen each other in years but you're still my best mate and-"_

"Tom?" Alex cut in, he'd recognize that incessant rambling anywhere.

" _Obviously. So, what do you say?"_

"How did you get this number?"

" _Not quite the reaction I was going for…"_

"No seriously. I've changed my number at _least_ five times since we last spoke. This is a secure phone, it's not even listed. How did you get this number?"

" _My best friend is a spy, dipwad."_

"Tom… there's a reason we stopped talking. There's a _reason_ that you moved to Italy with Jerry in the first place. You were shot, remember that? Jack _died_. And then after everything that happened last time I saw you? I'm dangerous, Tom."

" _Listen close you bloody idiot. I moved to Italy because my parents were shit. You think I'd live in Scorpia's backyard to get away from danger? Hell no. And that shit that went down before? It's our job, mate. I knew what I'd signed up for. Anyway, you cut me off, mate. I didn't get any say."_

"Tom-"

" _No, I'm talking, you're listening. I'm in London right now, staying in a hotel. If you don't get over your shit in twelve hours and meet me for coffee, I'll come to your house and drag you out kicking and screaming. I don't care how many guns you have, Mr. Spy Guy."_

"... I'll see you tomorrow then."

Alex put his phone down, feeling slightly stunned. He'd kept up with Tom regularly for the few weeks he'd lived with the Pleasures. When he came back he'd continued to stay in touch, but had kept correspondence to a minimum. He didn't want Tom to get hurt just for being associated with him.

The last time they had spoken in person was just about two years ago; Alex had been in Italy looking for a Scorpia/Mafia contraband. He'd ended up working with the local authorities - Alex had no idea that that meant Tom freaking Harris.

Tom had joined the _Guardia di Finanza_ , the Financial Guard. It hadn't sounded too fancy to Alex, but financial crimes didn't just mean tax evasion and copyright violations; it was smuggling, money laundering, illegal immigration, anti-Mafia operations and (the reason Alex was there) international drug trafficking.

Tom was usually a part of the anti-Mafia corps, having a 'weird' and 'unexplainable' grasp on terrorist activities. Alex had a sneaking suspicion that he had played a defining hand in Tom's career choice. His best mate had seen his name on a file, and had asked onto the case as the Mafia expert.

So Alex and Tom had spent three weeks traveling the Italian coast and disbanding drug trades. Mostly ship-based. A few outpost along the coast as well.

It was about three weeks in; Alex had infiltrated the main drug syndicate and they'd managed to find the major base - a huge, commercial cruise ship. Alex coordinated the assault from the inside, and Tom was a part of the team that stormed the place. Tom and two other operatives were supposed to come find Alex - he was down in the basement releasing a few prisoners that had fallen victim to illegal drug testing.

Everything had gone wrong. Alex felt like Murphy was laughing at him from beyond the grave.

One of the drug lords had managed to give the assault team the slip - the man had set fire to his below deck drug lab, which exploded minutes after. Half the ship had been destroyed in seconds, taking fourteen lives and most of the evidence. The rest of the ship was sinking, while simultaneously going up in flames.

Tom and Alex had grabbed the last of the prisoners, they'd ran up the stairs to try and find a way overboard. Making it to an open air deck, both boy's had helped the ex-prisoners over and into the water.

Unfortunately, the bad guys had the same plan. A little to the stern of the boat, several men and women toting guns appeared. Some started swan diving over the rail, a few others laid down cover fire.

Alex had been closest to the goons, and had his back to them; he had immediately drawn his gun to return fire. Tom, being the quick witted and more preservative best friend he was, had grabbed Alex from behind and tossed him over the edge like a rag doll.

Later, Tom would tell Alex that it was because he was afraid that Alex wouldn't do it himself. That the spy would let himself get mowed down with bullets so the rest could escape. Tom would tell him that 'you always get to be the hero, Al. Give someone else a turn'.

But not even the great Tom Harris's morbid yet enthusiastic humour could distract Alex from the bullet wound in his best friends stomach; from the fact that hours earlier, Tom had been in a major surgery to have the bullet and an irreparably damaged kidney removed.

It was the _second_ bullet Tom Harris had taken for him; how was he supposed to live with that?

Alex had disappeared from the hospital minutes after Tom had passed into a drug induced haze. He'd disappeared from the country, and in fact the continent, soon after.

He hadn't been in contact since.

* * *

"Cub? You okay? You look like you've been sucker punched…"

Alex looked up; Snake was leaning against the living room door, blurry eyed and half asleep. K unit didn't live with him anymore, not since he turned eighteen. Once he'd reached the age of majority, he'd sold the house in Chelsea and gotten a flat. K unit lived in the surrounding area, and they were over enough that Alex sometimes forgot that they didn't live together anymore.

Nowadays though, they tended to tote along spouses and kids and significant others. Honestly, you though one Eagle was bad? Babysitting was a _nightmare_ for Alex. (Not that Alex was too different nowadays - unlike Tom though, he didn't plan to pop the question any time soon).

Currently, Snake was crashing in his spare room. He'd just been filing reports at the bank the night before, and hadn't want to drive himself home. Alex, being at the bank all the time, had offered him a room and a ride - they would go retrieve Snake's car in the morning.

"I'm fine…" Alex let the statement trail off. He was aware that he was probably less than fine, but fake it till you make it, right?

"Who was on the phone?"

Alex tilted his head, glaring daggers at the cell phone. He'd need to get a new one now, this one was clearly compromised. "Just an old friend. We're meeting for coffee, to catch up."

* * *

 _What am I doing?_

Alex stood in front of a cafe, staring forlornly at the door. This had been Jack's favourite coffee place; half way between their house and the school, Jack would always come to pick him up with a coffee in hand.

It had also been a rather good place for him and Tom to hang out when they bunked off school. Or a good meeting place when they snuck out.

Alex hadn't been back here in years, the last time being with Tom a few days before leaving to the Pleasure's. He'd had to explain to Tom about Jack, the mission, that they wouldn't be able to see each other for a while. Tom had explained to him about home, how it had steadily gotten worse and his parents divorce had become unbearably messy. Tom had said that Alex leaving was the tipping point, he'd move to Italy with Jerry.

Though the last time Alex was here wasn't exactly a pleasant experience, there were a lot of good memories here too.

The time that Tom's watch had stopped and they didn't realize school had ended until Jack walked in to get her customary coffee; the verbal beat down that Jack had laid on the both of them for playing hooky.

The first time Alex had convinced Tom to try a coffee instead of tea. His friend didn't know what 'espresso' meant; Tom was bouncing off the wall for hours.

 _Okay, I can do this._

Alex steeled himself and walked into the small cafe. The room was dimly lit, a cute little lamp hanging above each table and some candles strategically placed around the room.

Tom had arrived before him, sitting in their usual booth - in the back and against a wall, facing the entrance. The black haired boy was nursing a mug of coffee, the steam hit his face making him flush.

Sliding into the booth, Alex waved down a waiter. He ordered a large coffee, with caramel and whip cream and an extra sweetener shot, the same way Jack loved - he was feeling sentimental.

* * *

"So who is the lucky girl, then? When do I get to meet her?"

"Actually," Tom swiveled in his seat, "there she is now."

Alex glanced up at the door. He barely contained a flinch because - _holy shit that's Tamara Knight!_ And _isn't she like, fifteen years older than us? What the hell?_

After his original panic, Alex looked at the situation with a more level head. The girl that had walked in was _not_ , in fact, Tamara Knight. She was _not_ approximately fifteen years older than them; in fact, if Alex had to hazard a guess, the girl looked to be a year or two younger.

She also happened to hold a stunning resemblance to Tamara Knight.

Tom waved her over. She walked through the cafe with easy grace, sitting next to Tom with a quick kiss.

"Hey dear," she turned her attention to Alex. He noticed that from afar she seemed to have brown eyes, similar to Tamara. But close up Alex could see that her left eye was actually green; the lack of symmetry actually made her look more beautiful. "You must be Alex. Tom has told me so much about you."

Alex smiled politely, shaking her hand. "Well, you have the advantage over me." Alex examined her, she had a distinctly American accent, and really did look an awful lot like Tamara.

"Oh sorry," she blushed. "Let me introduce myself; I'm Holly."

"Holly…?" Alex fished.

"Knight. Holly Knight." Ah, that's interesting.

"Any relation to Tamara Knight?"

Holly nodded, "My aunt. I lived with her growing up actually, do you know her?"

Tamara's _niece_. Alex had heard that it was a small world… but really?

"Yeah I do, through work."

Holly frowned, "You work… for intelligence?"

Suddenly paranoid, Alex looked up at the other cafe patrons. Everything was as it should be.

"A little quieter, perhaps?" Holly looked slightly embarrassed. "Yes. I mainly work for MI6, but I freelance with other agencies. A lot with the CIA."

"Makes sense," Alex gave Holly a quizzical look. "What I mean is, from what Tom has said, you sound like a superhero. I mean between the two of us - Tom with the Guard and me, I work in counter-terrorism - not everyone can handle that sort of life. But you… well, it makes sense."

"You work in counter terrorism?" Alex asked.

"Mhmm. It's how we-" she gestured between herself and Tom, "-met."

Alex nodded. "I guess living with a CIA agent sets you up for an odd sort of life, huh?"

"Same as living with a MI6 secret spy, so I hear." Tom chimed in cheekily.

Alex ignored him, "So why did you live with Tamara? If you don't mind my asking." Alex knew from experience that talking about absent or dead parents could be a touchy subject; but Alex Rider loved walking the line.

"Oh I don't mind," and she sounded like she meant that. "My mum walked out on my dad and I when I was a toddler, she was Tamara's sister. She sort of disappeared off the map. My dad didn't have any family, so he got pretty close with Tamara and the rest of my mum's family. He died when I was six in a working accident. He was an engineer. His project was behind and some corporate bigwigs were pushing him to finish. He ended up working through a sudden flash-freeze. Slipped and fell of the bride he was building. So, Aunt Tamara took me in, and her long-standing boyfriend."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Alex said with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Past is past," Holly said. "I miss him, of course, but Tamara has been good to me and I've had an awesome life. And from what I hear, you had a rougher time growing up."

Alex shrugged. "Everyone has a rough time, one way or another. I don't think mine was any better or worse than the next guy - just different."

"True enough. We all just do our best, huh?"

Alex agreed. Then a thought occurred to him. Glancing at Holly's hand, he noted the distinct lack of engagement ring. Tom had said the he was _planning_ to propose, but Alex suddenly wanted to know _when_ exactly that would come about.

Tom noticed Alex's gaze and made (not very discreet) hand gestures. His friend scrunched his face up, mouthing nonsensical words while repeatedly drawing a bladed hand over his throat.

Holly noticed the whole thing, but wisely chose not to comment.

* * *

After coffee, Alex, Tom and Holly were all wandering towards Tom and Holly's hotel. They were passing through South Park. Slowly, Tom and Alex fell behind Holly; or more likely, Holly sensed their need for a moment and had sped up.

"So mate," Alex started slyly, "when are you going to pop the question?"

"Actually…" Tom craned his neck, looking at the light woods to their right. A sandy path led to a small red bridge, which passed over a cute little stream.

Alex was aware that this was the same Park that Tom's own parents had gotten engaged in. Despite how that marriage had turned out, Alex knew that Tom really did love and admire his parents. That even though they spent their entire marriage fighting, they really had been in love.

And Alex knew that whenever his parents told the story of their engagement, no matter how pissed at each other they were, it calmed them right down. It was a good memory, one that they shared with Tom often enough. Talking about their engagement was one of the few things they could be civil about.

Tom smiled at Alex before rushing forward, catching up to Holly and pulling her to the bridge by the arm.

Holly followed along, looking only mildly annoyed, but clearly used to Tom's excitement and outbursts.

Alex pause where he was, not going any closer, but not backing away either. He pulled out his phone - thinking that, as best man, it was his duty to get things like this on camera.

Tom led Holly up the bridge, pausing at the peak. With the light canopy of trees, the sunshine dappled around them; making uneven but beautiful patterns on their skin. The stream below was clear, and sparkled in the light.

Holding Holly's hand, Tom spoke a few words that Alex was just far enough away from to miss. Alex watched understanding dawn on Holly's face. Tears formed and the woman brought a hand up to cover her now-gaping mouth.

Tom dropped to one knee, pulling a velvet box from his jacket with one hand while holding Holly's hand with the other. He cracked it open, the diamond shining like a fallen star in the case.

Alex watched as Holly started nodding quickly. Tom slipped the ring on her finger, rising up to capture her in a bear hug. His mate lifted Holly off her feet, spinning around on the small wooden bridge.

One miss step saw Tom catching his hip on the bridges rail. A look of surprised crossed Tom's face the microsecond before he and Holly were sent tumbling over the low barricade offered by the bridge.

Alex huffed in laughter, though neither of the happy couple seemed particularly bothered by their condition in the stream.

Holly gave Tom a long kiss, stopping to smile or giggle every so often.

Alex glided forward carefully, still filming.

"You really know how to make a splash, huh Tom?" Alex laughed at his soaking wet friend.

"Oi, shut it mate." Tom flung a handful of water in his direction.

Alex danced back, "Watch the phone, mate! I want everyone at the wedding to see you two _falling_ in love."

* * *

 **Response to Reviewers:**

 **This chapter is dedicated to the Guest that pointed out that I haven't written about Tom! I love Tom, and I plan to write about him lots more.**

 **Dear peevesisawesome: first of all, amazing name! Thank's for the tips, I forgot that it was pounds not euros. I went back and fixed it. And yeah, I wasn't sure about credit cards in taxi's, I live in Canada and you can but obviously Europe is different. It was more a plot device than anything.**

* * *

 **I don't know if I'll do another shot based so far in the future, but leave suggestions if you'd like!**

 **Anyone else you'd like to see the appearance of? Any suggestions for how the members of K unit turned out? Did they settle down? Have kids? Are they still working? Married to the job? Any ideas are welcome!**

 **I promise Eagle's wedding is coming! I'm a bit stuck, but I'll get there.**

 **Also, still trying to think of a way to introduce Eagles kid. I haven't settled on a gender or name for the baby, so suggestions are welcome! (I'm leaning towards a baby girl).**

 **And I'm still looking for suggestions on who Alex's significant other should be?**


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